Trifecta

By Kim Carmichael

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, including photocopying, recording, or transmitted by any means without written consent of the author.

Published by Hot Ink Press

Text Copyright 2013 by Kim Carmichael

Cover by Nicola Ormerod for Vivid Designs and Jackie Kolanko

I dedicate this book to anyone who ever dreamed a bit of a different dream, something left of center but magnificent anyway.

Chapter One

The plane dipped, falling at least a mile, and leaving Lauren Redmond's stomach spiraling through the stratosphere. She hugged her purse to her chest, a makeshift, useless life preserver as she prepared herself to splatter to Earth.

Her heart pushed against the wall of her chest begging to be heard. She leaned forward in an attempt to protect any part of her body. “Please, I promise I’ll change.” She whispered her vow into the crumpled mass of papers in her hand. “Land and I promise I’ll tell them.”

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are crossing through a zone of turbulence as we make our final descent into Los Angeles. Please keep your seat belts fastened. We will have you on the ground as soon as possible."
              The voice over the intercom bore through her brain as she tried to focus on the critical announcement. Every muscle in her body tensed tighter in anticipation of saving her life.

"They always say there's turbulence, but I think that's just a way to get us to be quiet." The old woman next to her shook her head and sat back. "The airlines are cutting back, I'm sure not giving us a bag of peanuts is saving millions."

Lauren didn't answer. The entire trip from San Francisco to Los Angeles was like an earthquake. They spent the flight with their seat belts fastened. The flight attendants never even served drinks. 

The plane continued to shake as if it were flying through gravel. She glanced at her watch. They should be touching down soon, there couldn't be much more to this.

The 'No Smoking' sign blinked, causing a false-friendly chime to ring out through the aircraft. "Prepare for landing."

"See I told you, nothing." The old woman stretched.

Once more the plane found an air pocket, dropping, as if it were sliding down a hill but would never hit the bottom.

"Oh!" The woman cracked and clutched the armrests.

Lauren's trembling amplified, vibrating her entire body right through her bones.

"Please prepare yourselves for a hard landing." The nameless, faceless, heartless, intercom announced.

Lauren put her head down. "I swear I'll do it this time, just get us down." This ride cinched her decision, no more life in limbo.

No one uttered a word.  There wasn't one noise except for the rumble of the plane matching her trembling.

They finally hit.

One bounce. A second bounce, and a third. Tires screeched, trying in vain to slow down the speeding capsule. As her back pressed into her seat, she was positive she didn’t put it in its full and upright position and prayed her mistake wasn’t fatal.

Everything stopped. 

“We have safely landed in Los Angeles,” a much too happy woman’s voice announced over the intercom. “We will be taxiing for several moments, please remain seated.”

Sepia light illuminated the cabin, and Lauren raised her head allowing herself to breathe. The exhaustion of relief enveloped her and everyone else on the plane collectively looked around.  She watched while the other passengers seemed to forget the ordeal, and began rushing to gather their items to engage in the age-old ritual of standing in the aisle in hopes the doors of death would soon open and release its cargo of captors.

They arrived safely.  Now, she had to keep her end of the bargain. She waited for her turn to escape, and with her tray table still stowed away she pulled the papers she traveled across California to retrieve, using her lap to straighten out the sheets that comprised her performance review.

After one glance, she crushed the papers in her fist. Yes, she got the raise and she got the promotion. She even got an award. Her stellar medical sales record spoke for itself. She was responsible for the majority of filled wrinkles and plumped lips in the Beverly Hills area.

Sales or not, promotion or demotion, this trip to corporate headquarters and this flight back only served to highlight exactly what she didn't have. She glanced down at her empty ring finger. 

The plane cleared, leaving only some sleeping guy and a woman waiting for a wheelchair. She retrieved her carryon, and made her way out letting the jet way lead her into the airport, toward the escalator. At the bottom of the moving stairs she would live up to her end of the bargain she made with the universe. She needed to change her life, become an adult, and stop living in fantasyland.

Airports only held two paths, arrivals or departures. Before she made a move, she observed her surroundings. A man stood at the bottom with a bouquet of roses, and a woman holding a baby looked around for her match. Another group of women huddled together bouncing, pointing and screaming.

She wondered how many were there to tell their two best friends, the two men they loved that they were leaving. 

“Laurie!”

She grabbed the railing, willing the escalator to stop because she was sure she didn't hear right. Only one person called her by that name.  The only homing device she needed to insure he was here in this crowd was to turn where every other woman within a twelve-mile radius stared. No matter if you were near or far, Jason Morgan was a sight you had to take in.

She made it to the bottom and headed straight for the beacon of blond hair. Today he was playing the role of someone between a rock star and a secret agent, with his tall frame draped in black pants, jacket and turtleneck. She had lived with this man for six years. Spent countless hours with him. Yet still, to this day, when he moved his hair aside and peered at her over the pair of black rimmed sunglasses he decided to wear even at night, her insides bubbled, every nerve-ending overflowing with excitement, need and yearning.

“We heard the flight was rough, and I decided to come in and get you.” He held his arms out.

“I hate flying.” She stepped back, resisting his hug. "They prepared us for a bad landing."

“I know, but it's better than your driving. How many promises did you make to yourself if the plane landed and you didn’t die?” He wiggled his fingers.

“Just one.” The biggest one yet. The longer she stayed, the longer she would never have her own family, her own home, stability. She would always be the third wheel on the bicycle. Unneeded, unfulfilled and wobbly. Still, she allowed his fingers to lure her into his arms.

Instead of being pulled into one of his big-brother hugs, he held her out by her shoulders.

She stumbled at being stopped, tripping on both her feet and her suitcase.

“I got you.” Jason caught her, startling her with a kiss on the lips before he helped her stand. “Let’s go, Russ is driving in circles.”

Again, she floundered on her feet. In the millions of kisses she received from this man, he never kissed her on the mouth, his lips lingering. The bubbles already throughout her body began to explode, leaving her tingling and terrified.

“Careful.” He grabbed her arm to steady her, kissed her again, and took the handle of her suitcase. “You okay?”

Another matching kiss left her without any strength in her legs. She needed to remember her resolve. “I need to talk to you guys.”

He put his arm around her. “Well it will have to wait. We have a surprise for you.”

The kisses alone surprised her enough. Caught in a stare, she didn't notice they’d left the airport until the hot Southern California air, even in the middle of October, blasted over her. “Jason, I really need to tell you both something.” No surprises, no kisses, nothing but her talking to them and taking charge. She needed to live like everyone else.

“There he is.” Jason lifted his arm.

The vision of living like everyone else dissipated as Jason guided her to a massive red monster truck with silver rims, huge tires and a step to get inside.

“What is this?” At first she backed away, but the door to the truck opened and she found herself staring right into Russell’s face. He wasn’t the freeway stopping traffic jam Jason was, Russell reminded her of a 1950's leading man. The man with the dark tailored suit, combed back hair and bursting brain who would come home with his briefcase of important work and still have time to help his children with their homework then make love to his to wife every night.

While Jason was unattainable, Russell was the kind of man someone could have if they were only a little prettier, a little smarter or a little better.

“My parent's dealership got it. It’s fun.” Jason bent down and put her foot on the step.

The only word to describe the scene going on around her was surreal. Jason being the gentleman, kissing and helping her, coupled with Russell smiling at the airport, his own personal nemesis.

“We were worried about you. Come on, we can all sit in the front.” Russell offered her his hand. “But you get the middle.”

She put her hand in his, needing something normal. Russell would listen when she said she needed to talk to them.

“In we go.” Jason cupped her bottom using both hands, and lifted her.

She gasped at the way Jason touched her, it was unexpected but not unwanted. She couldn't want it, and she went to say something, but Russell tugged her.

“Welcome home, you were missed.” He slid back to the driver’s seat with her in tow. While Jason threw her bag in the back, Russell snaked his hand around her neck and brushed his lips against hers.

Something was wrong. Jason lived by his own law of physics, and she tried to chalk up his kisses to one of his creative experiments or artistic expressions, but Russell wasn’t the kissing type. Only simple hard pecks ever left his lips, but this kiss treated her to a supple mouth made all the more potent by the fact he licked his lips right after.  The shivers hiding underneath her skin after Jason’s affection took on a throbbing residence right between her thighs with Russell. “What’s going on?”

“I told you we have a surprise. We need to take your mind off your flight.” Jason moved in until their legs touched, and slammed the door shut.

As Russell drove away, she turned left then right and was met with nothing but visions of the men she wanted. Since college, the three of them had been best friends, and her own needs had gone unfulfilled because she couldn’t love them both or have them both. Right now they needed to have a discussion, yet her words heeded a different plan. “What is it?”

“Steve got an exhibition. We are going to see his show.” Jason handed her a bottle of water. “I know you’re thirsty.”

On any other day she would have taken the drink, swooning over the small gesture. “I don’t want to go the exhibit. I have to talk to the two of you.” 

“We have to go.” Russell’s voice took on its normal dare-to-defy-me tone.

“No.” She double dared him and hit her fist on her knee. “I told you, we need to talk.”

“Okay.” Russell pulled over. The truck seized to a stop. “Are you sure you're okay from the flight?”

Both Russell and Jason faced her. She kept her gaze forward, her mouth shut, concentrating on the lone drop of sweat making its way down her spine. "Yes."

“Are you hurt?” Jason moved into her field of vision.

“Are you dying?” Russell tapped her.

“Not right now.” She frowned. There was no way she could tell them like this, here in some cartoon car with them playing some kissing game with her. “I can’t go looking like this.” She glanced down at her wrinkled grey business suit. “I look like I’m going to work.”

“Yes, your corporate regalia.” Russell rubbed the fabric on her sleeve between two fingers.

“Oh, well if that’s what’s bothering you, we can help.” Jason reached into the small cargo space behind the front seat, pulled out a garment bag and unzipped it.

The glare of the multi-colored traffic lights coming into the car must have blurred her vision, because the short, deep purple dress with the V-neck and ruffle at the hemline she’d admired the last time she dragged them shopping somehow appeared.

“Are either of you dying?” This was the exact dress she pictured one of them taking her out in, only she couldn’t pick which one. Her heart made half a beat, and froze in the center of her chest, a swollen, aching organ.

“She's upset we didn’t get the shoes.” Russell let out one lone laugh.

She jerked her head at the sound of joy coming out of Russell.

“Yeah, those shoes were cool, with straps and all that girl stuff.” Jason hung his arm around her shoulder.

“Good thing we got them.” Russell reached under the seat, handing her the matching footwear. “Now, do we still need to talk?”

Her heart finished its beat, this time cowering behind her lungs and ribs for protection. “How did Steve get a show?”

“He called, someone canceled and they needed some art.” Jason pulled at her suit jacket.

She leaned up and allowed Jason to remove her blazer. “I can’t go to the show, I’m exhausted.”

“He said you had to go.” Russell took the jacket and tossed it behind him.

“But…” She pressed her back into the seat when Jason bent down and removed her shoes.

“No buts.” Russell swiped the shoes away. “We’re going.”

“I can’t go.” The words lost some of their fire when Jason distracted her by starting to unfasten the buttons on her shirt. “What are you doing?” She put her hand over his.

“Undressing you.” Jason answered as if he were ordering a hamburger from a drive through.